


take you down another level (and get you dancing with the devil)

by streimel



Series: Gamble the World On You (Blackjack) [11]
Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 16:10:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5546753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/streimel/pseuds/streimel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has a price - Sungjong's is just a little more expensive than most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	take you down another level (and get you dancing with the devil)

**Author's Note:**

> warnings: this is about an encounter between a sex worker and his client - take that for what you will
> 
> very slight mention of abuse in the very beginning

The house has a nice view of the mountains, but it doesn't guarantee anything. Sungjong learned early looks can be deceiving - rich men are just as likely to push their limits, try to hurt him. All Patrick Bateman, American Psycho style.

For what it's worth, this one hasn't given him that feeling (yet). He's just another innocuous stockbroker, corporate law attorney, conglomerate accountant. They're all the same, under their button downs. Men with wives, children, reputations that get set free as soon as they have a few million won to drop on a high-price escort. Sungjong tries not to be too judgemental - he rents a very nice studio in Cheongdam with the money he earns sucking these guys cocks in the bathrooms of 4-star restaurants. God gave him beauty, charm, and an ability to smile no matter what shit was coming out of someone's mouth; he just found the best occupation to utilize all three.

As the man leads him through the house, Sungjong picks up a few hints of who he really could be. The furniture is nice, but there are no pictures, no mementos. It smells new, untouched. A workaholic then, probably single. Judging from his apparent age (or lack thereof), this might be his first time ordering someone like Sungjong. He's young and inexperienced and, most of all, _rich_ \- Sungjong expects he'll get a few extra hundred thousand won on top of the base fee.

Sungyeol, or Sungjoon, as he had told the agency. Sungjong understands a desire for anonymity, but he had sneaked a look at his driver's license when the man had brought out his wallet to pay for dinner - in his line of work, it's best to know these things, in case something goes south. He's never had to bring in the police, because a call from his lawyer seeking damages from a particularly inappropriate customer is usually enough. These billionaires love their privacy and their male escorts.

Sungyeol is tall and handsome and unaggressive, the type of customer Sungjong likes best. Opening doors, hand behind his back but not quite touching when guiding him down the hall, that type of chivalrous that doesn't exist anymore. Indeed, Sungyeol doesn't lead him to the bedroom or straddle him on the couch, tongue down his throat; he takes him into an extended dining room, ushering him to sit while moving to the sideboard, opening up a cabinet and pulling out bottles of wine, obviously debating the one best suited for the occasion. Sungjong usually doesn't drink, especially not from someone's home collection, but he sips politely at his offered glass, only after Sungyeol takes a long drink from his own. It must be safe.

Sungjong moves to explore the room, decorated to a tee with fine art Sungyeol probably doesn't have the taste to have picked for himself. There's a dock for a phone on the sideboard, and Sungjong gestures to it, earning a wave from Sungyeol in return, eyes watching his every step over the rim of his glass. Sungjong has a playlist for this, because he's a consummate professional. The song begins, crooning in English about something Sungjong had looked up at one time, but since forgotten. What really matters is the dark, sexy undertones of the man's vocals. Sungyeol seems to be listening intently, and Sungjong idly wonders if he speaks English.

Sungyeol doesn't seemed shocked when Sungjong climbs on the table, arm extended to brush the tips of a low-hanging chandelier. If anything, there's a secret smile on his face, as if to urge Sungjong into doing more exciting, unpredictable things. Sungjong is more than happy to oblige. The stonetop of the marble table is cool beneath his socks, and an image of Sungyeol fucking him on it gives him a shock. He's simply not that type of boy (though a dark part of his heart whispers _"you could be"_.)

Sungyeol can't hide the way his eyebrows rise when Sungjong pulls his shirt out of his pants, and Sungjong ducks his head for a moment, hiding a laugh that could insult. Sungyeol is obviously very, very new to this game; Sungjong just hopes he's not the type to cum in his pants before the fun really begins - those guys always want discounts because they can't keep it together.

The tie slides loose, coiling at his feet like a snake, and Sungyeol glances at it briefly before returning to look at his face. Sungyeol's look is dark, intent, but open. He's in no rush, and Sungjong flicks buttons open one at a time to the beat of the music, leaving just a sliver of skin exposed as he sways down the table to where Sungyeol sits at the head, crouching down in front of him carefully.

Sungjong does his best to look serene - that's why men pick him in the first place. Sungyeol doesn't say anything, just smirks a little, and Sungjong strikes out a fast as a cobra, grabbing Sungyeol's tie and yanking him until they're breathing each other's air. Sungjong smiles at Sungyeol's response, eyes wide with surprise before settling in a little approving smile of his own, and Sungjong brushes the hint of a kiss against Sungyeol's mouth before letting him drop back in his chair. Sungjong drops his ass to the table, feet dangled over to perch between Sungyeol's legs on the edge of his seat.

"I want to suck your cock," Sungjong says thoughtfully, words forming carefully over each syllable as one foot edges the outline of Sungyeol's dick through his pants. Sungyeol's half-hard, and that's a relief - he's into it. Sungyeol nods, a little shakily, and Sungjong gives him a look through hooded eyes, hearing Sungyeol swallow audibly. He hops down, pushing Sungyeol's chair back, and Sungyeol's hands lie idly at his sides. He looks something like a sacrificial offering, but only probably because he doesn't know what's okay.

"You can touch me," Sungjong says, lips pressed against Sungyeol's, and Sungyeol breathes into him, one hand coming up to stroke his neck as the other guides his hips, bringing him down on to his lap. The image of Sungyeol fucking him, quick and dirty, returns as Sungyeol surges into him, and he has to dig into Sungyeol's shoulder just to hold on.

He rips at Sungyeol's shirt, hands sliding beneath the fabric to get at his body. Sungyeol is soft here, not very but just enough. He likes it; it's real. He drops to his knees, mouth outlining the strained line of Sungyeol's cock through his pants, and Sungyeol shows his first real human response to that, cry echoing over the forgotten music in the background. Sungyeol is straining so hard Sungjong immediately fishes him out, doubting the comfort of the confinement.

Sungyeol throbs in his hand, and Sungjong knows he has to draw him out slow. He could finish this quick, a few fast, hard strokes before ending it all, packing up and calling it a night, but he wants to make this good, because Sungyeol seems like the type of guy that deserves it. So instead, he pools the saliva on his tongue, licking one broad stripe all the way from the bottom of Sungyeol's dick to the slit at the top, and he stutters when Sungyeol groans, like he were being tortured.

Sungyeol is a perfect gentleman, through and through. His hand lies idly in the strands of Sungjong's hair, not pushing or pulling, and Sungjong coaxes him into standing, wanting a little ferocity out of him. "Fuck my mouth," Sungjong says, not forgetting to add a little bit of whine in his tone, and Sungyeol still doesn't say anything, simply moving to comply. Still, Sungjong learns that Sungyeol isn't as inexperienced as he looks; he grasps Sungjong jaw, one hand holding his balls back, and fucks into his mouth with just enough force that Sungjong's eyes water, but he doesn't gag.

Recurring thoughts won't leave Sungjong alone, even when he's concentrating on sucking in his cheeks around Sungyeol's dick. It's simply not good form to offer more than agreed to - like watching a movie, only to interrupt with a headline reading you have to pay another 4,000 won just to see how it ends. It kills the mood, to haggle over services and prices when the fun's already begun, but he wants it, and he's tempted to throw caution to the wind.

He suffices with dangling his head over the edge of the table, having Sungyeol fuck into his mouth that way and stroking himself off, openly in front him. He rubs at the head of his cock, eyes fluttering shut when he hears Sungyeol's choppy breaths in response. He's enjoying the show, then. There's a danger in this position, a dizzying case of bloodrush to the head, but he lets it cloud his mind, finishing himself off on his chest. Sungyeol continues for a while, and Sungjong feels a bit of surprise when he jerks out of his mouth, leaning over his shoulder to add his own load to the mix. Dragging a finger through it, mixing the spunk across his stomach, Sungjong notes Sungyeol's open-mouthed gasps as he comes down from his high - so this is what gets him going. Good to know.

Sungjong allows Sungyeol to clean him up, the perfect gentleman all over again, and kisses him once more before Sungyeol tucks the envelope into the pocket inside his jacket, zipping it up at the door to ward off the cold that will come outside. Sungyeol says his name when he goes to open the door, and Sungjong realizes it's the first thing he's said since they got back to the house.

"Do you do contracts? Exclusive ones, I mean. An agreed-upon business deal, of sorts," Sungyeol says, and Sungjong really wants to die laughing at how serious Sungyeol looks, speaking in salaryman terms when talking about the chance to get in his ass and be the only one to do so. Usually, this would be the part where he'd make his excuses, because Lee Sungjong doesn't do clingy sugar daddies, but he feels an urge now, and he might be willing to make an exception if the price is right.

"Talk to my agency," he says, dropping a kiss on Sungyeol's cheek before opening the door. "Things can always be arranged."


End file.
